Must Be Cut and Paste
by kakashidiot
Summary: Angel may be a badass vampire but he can't mix at a party to save his life. Cordy helps. slight CordyAngel. RandR!


Don't own the show Angel... belongs to Whedon ( i think)...

Dun! Dun! Dun!

First Western show ever fanficced! (hurrah!)

Review and tell me what you think...

**

* * *

**

Must Be Cut and Paste

_I don't belong here._

His dark eyes wandered around the brightly clad crowd of young people who seemed to find some sort of happiness from flinging themselves around in what they apparently thought was an erotic fashion.

_Rather bizarre. And... there's NO WAY I could EVER do that..._

_No_, Angel decided. _I don't belong here. Standing here like a sore thumb. Again._

He could just imagine Cordy the next day.

_**

* * *

"So, Angel... thanks for the brooding visage. I was kinda worrying that nobody would be there to act as the party's signature Sore Thumb!"**_

* * *

Or..._**

* * *

"Why do I even THINK about inviting you? I already know what you'll do. Brooding in a corner, sitting in the dark alone, brooding again..."**_

_**"Brooding?"**_

_**"Brooding. And not like a chicken - you know... more like... an evil vampire brooding..."**_

_**"I'm a vampire."**_

_**"Right... still... it can't hurt to change the image once a century? Can it?"**_

_

* * *

No. I guess... I just don't belong here._

Angel, L.A.'s (most broody) handsome and powerful vampire dectective, was reknown for his infamous detecting, protecting and attacking skills. He understood martial arts and the power of spells. When it came to researching demons and underworld (or otherworld) ghoulies, Angel was the only man...er, vampire to fit the bill.

But even though demons and nasty otherworld critters had been easily vanquished by the handsome detective, Angel, at another of Cordy's parties, felt (once again), at a serious loss.

_I can kill a vampire, but I can't talk to a girl... Sure I look cool but... but..._

"Relax," Gunn said, coming up behind the vampire, a hot chick on his arm. "This is totally cool, man. Another world to explore - know what I mean?"

He winked.

Angel blinked.

_Since when did HE become a ladies man?_

"I agree with Mr. Gunn," Wesley smiled, as he helped himself (yet again) to another shrimp roll. "Cordelia certainly does know how to throw the best gala events in L.A."

"The ones you KNOW of," Cordy said tartly.

She smiled widely at her partners - and - taking in Angel's dark attire - and "brooding visage" - couldn't help but sigh.

"But thanks, Wesley, Gunn. It's nice to know that SOMEONE'S enjoying themselves."

"I AM enjoying myself!" protested Angel.

"You are?" Angel's friends asked in unison.

An uncomfortable pause, while Angel blinked again at his coworkers - his dark eyes looked a little sad.

"Really?" Gunn, quirked an eyebrow. "Sorry, bro - I guess the, uh, brooding -"

"See, brooding!" Cordy agreed.

"I'm not brooding!"

"No." Cordy leaned forward to peer at his face intently. "I see there are less wrinkles than normal."

Angel sighed.

"I guess... I'm not good at the whole talking to people and dancing thing."

"What you need," Gunn suggested heartily, while winking at the girl tugging on his arm. "Is some dancing lessons. Watch and learn."

Five minutes of Gunn's version of "slow dancing" - which could be better described as "glue-yourself-and-your-hands-as-much-as-you-can-to-your-girl-dancing" - and Angel turned away.

"Guys... I don't think -"

He stopped at the sight of a wide-eyed Wesley (still holding onto a shrimp roll).

"Is - is - that legal?" breathed Wesley.

"Uh..." Angel clasped his hands and cleared his throat. "That's a dark path to walk, Wes..."

"He's not that bad," Cordy nodded approvingly, checking out Gunn's smooth moves.

"Well," Wesley loosened his tie. "I could, er, practice with you, if you wish, Miss Cordelia."

"Hmmm... Let's see... I kinda need my feet tomorrow..." Cordelia turned away from the dance floor. "So... no."

Wesley slumped at Cordelia's easy rejection, grabbed another shrimp roll for consolation and went off in search of a willing dance partner (read: victim).

"See how easy it is?" Cordelia smiled at a stricken Angel.

"It's been a long time..."

"Hm. Yes. I bet. And I guess the only dance you know is the horizontal tango! HAHAHA! And you know -" Cordelia clued into what she just said. "Of course, totally not good for vampires with a soul..."

"Yeah..."

Angel leaned back against the wall, contemplating the beer can in his hand.

"Anyway, dancing is the easy part," Cordelia pointed out. "The hard part is actually talking to a girl."

"That's true," Angel nodded softly. "I think someone's waving at you, over there..."

Cordelia turned away.

* * *

Cordelia turned away, unsure of what to do. She knew that she couldn't just leave her socially retarded boss just standing there - looking like the world's biggest sore thumb. But, there was a whole room to mix and mingle with. People she had to see and talk to - contacts to make stronger. Possible future references for gigs. And of course, guys she could actually date.

_Although... what with things the way they are, dating is kinda hard, _Cordelia sighed at the memory of the night before last. _Being woken up with an emergency vision isn't the best thing for a long-term relationship. Obviously, the Powers That Be totally DON'T want me to have a life... They probably are bent on making me into an Angel clone. Which... isn't as romantic as it looks. _

She turned to check on Angel. He was edging toward the kitchen.

_Rather pathetic really._

"Who IS he?" Asked an up and coming soap opera actress. "He's so dreamy - but... not really talkative..."

"Oh... him? You mean - Angel?" Cordelia tossed her head. "He's a friend... of a... friend..."

"A friend of a friend?" Another girl laughed. "Who's friend? He looks like a loner. I tried talking to him. He's scary!"

"Ahahaha! Yeah... He has issues..."

Cordelia didn't really know what to say.

"Well, every guy has issues," one of Cordelia's male guests interjected. "Most times it's a girl."

"Now that, I agree with!"

All the girls laughed.

"Maybe we should ask him to dance!"

"That'll loosen him up!"

"Uh... he doesn't dance," sighed Cordelia. "I know."

"You know him?"

"Welllll... When I'm not doing a gig, he's my part-time job boss. I do a little secretarial work..."

"Is he mean?"  
"Does he ALWAYS wear black?"

"Can he, like, talk? Ever?"

Cordelia sighed.

_Was I ever this stupid? I guess I was. A long time I ago, I'd have looked at Angel -_

Her eyes traveled over to Wes (who was prancing around the room in what HE thought was a cool dance) - and at Gunn who had gotten cuddly on a couch with two girls.

_If I'd looked at Wes and Gunn, I'd have seen a whole bunch of losers. But now, I know that outside isn't what matters. It's all about what's in the inside._

_Well... they're still losers - but... they mean well... they do people good. And when Angel's... Angel, he awesome at saving the world... so..._

"He's a great boss. I'm glad he hired me."

"Really? Cool... well... Steven... wanna dance?"

"Do I have a choice?"  
"Hmmmm... not really..."

* * *

Watching her friends pair off, Cordelia, evading the eyes of several guys, made her way over (once again) to Angel.

"Hey... wanna dance?"

"What?"

"Forget it."

"No what did you ask me?"

"I asked you if you wanted to dance but -"  
"Um..." Angel shrugged. "Sure."

"Okay, then... let's get to it, Mister Broody."

"Can we, like, drop that?"

"O-kay... I'm just... telling it like it is..."

The two danced for a couple minutes, trying to get comfortable with each other. Neither of them knowing what to say.

_It's so weird,_ Cordelia sighed to herself._ We work together, for goodness sake! We're a team! How hard can this be? But here... it's like... we're in different worlds. All we can talk about is work... adn that's - so UNCOOL..._

"What is it that you hate about parties?" Cordelia ventured.

"I like parties!"

"Angel..."

"Sorry. It's just... I don't know what to say. And then... even if - even if - a -" Here, he sighed (a big world-weary sigh). "If I get too clsoe... Things... get messy..."

"You mean... losing your soul messy?"

"Hmmm." A pause. "Yeah."

"You were thinking of your time as Angelus, huh?"

"What?"

"Just now -"

"Uh... yeah..."

"It still bothers you."

Angel nodded mutely.

"It will never go away."

The two drew closer and slowed down.

"No," Cordelia agreed. "It won't."

Angel looked up into her frank eyes with uncertainty.

"It won't ever go away, Angel." She said softly. "But... that shouldn't stop other things from coming..."

"Cordelia -"

"Just because of the whole Angelus, evil, killing, murdering - trying to suck the whole world into hell thing - doesn't mean you can't go to a party and smile sometimes."

Angel's lips curved upwards.

"Thanks, Cordy."

"Glad to be of service," his secretary nodded, then pulled away to be replaced by another girl.

A short, bubbly red-head, who like tai-chi and making her dog costumes.

"How...nice..." Angel smiled weakly. "Everyone needs a hobby... right?"

The girl grinned.

_What did Cordy say her name was? Gay? No... um... Wynnie? Damn..._

"Do you have a hobby?"

"Eh? Me? Have a hobby?" Angel tried to keep his smile in place.

_Hobby?_

"I like to... uh, read. I read. Alot." Angel mentally wiped his brow.

_This is something I can talk about for sure..._

"Oh? What about?"

A pause.

"Well... sup-"

_Wait... if I say supernatural and occult - I'm wearing black... she'll think I'm creepy, most likely... uhhhh..._

"Soup?"

"Soups," Angel echoed, smiled frozen. "I, uh, am interested in cooking. Cooking, uh, soups..."

"Wow. Do you do international cuisine?"

"Depends... my favorite is... Irish stew because..."

_Because - WHAT THE HECK... why did I pick IRISH stew - oh!_

"Of my family background. That is, my family background is. Irish. So Irish stews - are my... uh... specialty..."

"That's so cool!"

"Really?"  
"Well - to be so in touch with Ireland! My family's Irish, too."

_Shit!_

"Oh? How nice. Whereabouts?"

"Ulster... you heard of it?"

"Ah. Ulster... yes... been there. Very nice. But, you know, in the late 1800s... - it was kind of, scummy... believe me," Angel froze in belated horrified realization...

"Oh!" You're interested in Irish history. Wow! You must read alot of different things."

"Well," Angel cleared his throat, glad he couldn't sweat because by now, the girl's hand would have slipped out his. "Soups, and, uh, history are - my main interest, and, uh, - Manilow..."

"No way! I LOVE MANILOW!"

"You do?" Angel's eyebrows quirked at his enthusiastic partner. "That's great. What's your favorite song?"

* * *

"See!" Cordelia said triumphantly to Wes and Gunn. "He CAN do parties. He just need a pep talk!"

Angel was giving Cordy subtle "help me" looks, which the girl didn't notice.

"Give him time - he'll be a real socialite on of these days."

"Give him a couple hundred YEARS, maybe," Gunn chuckled.

"But it'll do him good! I'm SURE he's enjoying himself."

Her two co-workers stared at her.

"Well, Miss Cordelia, it will..." Wesley adjusted his glasses. "As longa s it doesnt end up... you know..."

Angel was making his way over to his friends, the red-head in the arms of another guy, who happened to own a Lhasa Apso.

"I like Irish stews, reading about Irish history, specializing in living conditions in Ulster - as well as Manilow."

"What?" Cordelia blinked at her boss' rapid outburst.

"I need another beer..." Angel turned around looking for the alcohol. "It's going to be a long night."

"Me, too," Gunn grinned. "Hand one over, boss."

"The living conditions of Manilow?" Wes blinked.

Next morning:

Angel was checking his forehead for wrinkles.

_Why, as a vampire, am I doing this?_

"Hello, Angel! How's Mr. Sunshine?" Cordy paused at teh sight of Angel's LOOK. "What? I said nothing about broodiness..."

"You were implying -"

"No. I wasn't - to be honest, when the party started last night, I thought I'd have to say something come morning. You know the regular dialogue of 'You were brooding - and not in a chicken kind of way - but more like an evil vampire brooding' -"

"But I'm a vampire..."

"See! That's what I thought you would say!" Cordelia smiled. "But, you know, not evil. A little socially retarded - but not evil."

"That's right - wait. What do you mean 'socially retarded'?"

"But NOT EVIL," his sunny secretary found her seat behind the computer desk. "That's more important."

"I'm not -"

"By the way, Gwynn wants to get together with you to sample your Irish stew."

"Cordy - wait - wait... What do you mean, socially -"

The door swung open.

"Ahhh! Cordelia! Top of the morning to you! Lovely, lovely gala, as usual!"

"Thanks, Wes. I'm glad you enjoyed yourself."

"I enjoyed myself too," Angel interjected.

"Gunn! How's it going!"

"Hey, Cordy! Nice party! Thanks for the invite! You had some hot chicks there... totally diggin' -"

"Digging?" Wes blinked.

"I'm NOT socially retarded. I had chicks too!"

Angel has a long way to go!


End file.
